


Barnstorming: Paranoia

by Telesilla



Series: Barnstorming [5]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Baseball, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"When he looked at me, my first thought was that he knows. I don't know if he does or if it's just...me."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barnstorming: Paranoia

  
  
Striped Waistcoat -- _source:[Pirate's Cave](http://www.pirates-cave.com/detail/542155-waistcoat-pcw4-2-steampunk-waistcoat-pcw4-2)_

 

As always, playing ball makes everything better; by the time the second game's over, Buster feels less shaky. True, the laudanum he took helps, but concentrating on the ball in the bright sunshine makes it much easier to forget about shadows for a while. It also helps that he's catching Vogey; the man can be a surly bastard, but Buster's never seen a shadow hanging over him. Bumgarner's got a shadow, Belt's got more than one and Pagan's got...well, Buster hasn't figured Pagan out. His face shifts sometimes, as if Buster's seeing it twice. 

As disturbing as double vision and shadows are, Buster vastly prefers them to the other things he sometimes sees. Like that thing earlier, he thinks with a shudder.

"Ya okay, Peach?"

"Huh?" Buster shakes his head a little. "I'm fine," he says, watching as Belt and Pence load the gear up into the buggy. "Hungry," he says, turning his attention back to Bum. "You?"

"You ever seen me not hungry?"

"There is that."

Food steadies him even more. The Big Prairie Saloon was apparently expecting them; they've got both steak and chicken and lots of it. Grant Eddison, the captain of the local team, is also a brewer and his beer's better than Buster's had in a while. Not that he drinks much of it; he hasn't been well and truly drunk since three days before he got injured. For a long time there was the morphine and after he got over that, he learned that too much booze made him see things. 

Tim thinks it strange; he told Buster that opium is more likely than alcohol to make you see things. Buster could hear "that aren't there" even though Tim didn't say it. Tim puts up with it for now and that's enough for Buster. He'd rather not know what Tim really thinks of him.

Buster's halfway through his steak when Pence walks through the door. He's greeted by a round of applause and cheers from everyone in the saloon. His amazing diving catch might have saved the game for the Traveling Thirteen, but it was good enough that even their opponents were impressed. 

So was Buster. Pence doesn't say much about where he played before, but for all his odd, jangling mannerisms on the field, he's a good player. Good enough that the team voted to bring him on even though it cut into everyone's share a little. Not that they make much out here, but at least they won't pay for the food tonight and they'll get a good deal on the beer and whiskey they drink. Near as Buster can tell, money's not really why most of the Thirteen are on this tour. It's a chance to play ball without being stuck in one place and that seems to be enough for the boys on Buster's team.

"Where's Belt?" Buster asks when Pence settles down at his table. 

"He's fixing some shelves for Mrs. Stinson. Might be doing more for her, although it's hard to tell with him."

"I don't know why the women love him so much," Crawford says. "He's pretty homely." 

Pagan turns from the table next to theirs. "He treats women like they're people and not children."

Buster blinks and then looks down at his food. Not again, damnit. He simply can't figure out what he's seeing when Pagan's face changes like it does. It's like two drawings of his face, both a little different, are laid on top of each other. The lines and edges don't match up. 

"I treat women like people." Crawford's scowling. He likes to think of himself as a ladies man, and Buster knows it galls him to know that Belt's better with women than he is.

"Yeah, but do you fix shelves too?" Tim says. 

When Buster finally looks up, he finds himself meeting Pence's gaze. Pence stares at him for just a little too long and then turns his attention to his own dinner. 

The sick tension in Buster's chest is all too familiar and he fights it with common sense. Pence doesn't know anything, he tells himself. He doesn't know about Buster and Tim, and he doesn't know about the things Buster sees. No one but Tim knows. After a moment or two, the feeling subsides and Buster breaths out a slow, careful breath. 

Tim shoots him a quick glance and then shifts in his chair. For just a moment, his leg is pressed up against Buster's and the real, _normal_ human contact eases Buster's mind. 

By the time they get back to their room, Tim's a little tipsy and Buster's at just the right stage--relaxed but not out of control. When the door closes behind them, Tim's leaning against him and Buster bends down a little cautiously for a kiss. As always, his hesitation is unnecessary; Tim kisses him back right away. It's just what Buster needs right now and it gets better when Tim puts his arms around Buster's waist and pulls him in closer. Tim's hard and the feel of him against Buster's thigh makes Buster moan into Tim's mouth. There's still an echo of the way he felt his first time with a man--like he'd found a missing part of himself.

"I want you," Tim says. "Right now."

"Right now," Buster echoes, his knees already bending.

"No," Tim says as Buster kneels. "Not like that." He reaches down for Buster's hand. "On the bed."

"All right," Buster says, letting Tim, who's surprisingly strong, pull him back up to his feet. 

As usual, Buster pulls his clothes off as quickly as possible while Tim carefully unbuttons his waistcoat and then his shirt. Even when they have to change back behind a grandstand, Tim still has to look just so. At least he didn't bother with a collar and tie today and that's his third best waistcoat. 

"Someone's been in my things," Tim says. He's staring at the bureau, his hands on his hips.

"Are you sure?" Even as Buster asks, he feels like someone dumped a basin of cold water over him. Bending down, he picks his drawers off the floor and puts them on.

"Yes. Whoever refolded this shirt did a bad job of it."

"Pence." 

Tim turns to look at him. "What happened at dinner? You looked at him and then got all nervous for a moment there."

"When he looked at me, my first thought was that he knows. I don't know if he does or if it's just...me." Buster pinches the bridge of his nose. "That, at least, is probably just me.

"I don't know about that. Someone did search our room and Pence did come back with Belt. Unless you think it was Belt or Mrs. Stinson."

"I just don't see what anyone would be looking for." Even as Buster says it, he glances at the nightstand and the bottle of oil sitting on it. 

Tim follows Buster's gaze. "If he was trying to figure what we get up to in bed, he'd have stopped there." 

"What about my gear?" Buster crouches down and searches through his bag. "Honestly, I can't tell; it's all a jumble."

"Is the laudanum still in your glove?"

"Yes. But that doesn't mean he didn't see it. Maybe that's why he searched the rest of the room."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Tim says, as he starts pacing. "I know you don't want people to know you take it, but if someone saw it in your bag, they'd just assume it was for your ankle."

"Then we're back where we started. I still think it was Pence."

"Then we will talk to him in the morning. Unless you want to do it now?"

"Now," Buster says, taking a deep breath.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this ends on a total cliffhanger moment, sorry about that. Since I'm writing this on the fly--even more than I usually do--I need to make some decisions before I write the conversation that has to happen next.
> 
> The Traveling Thirteen are: Buster Posey (C and manager), Tim Lincecum (RHP), Ryan Voglesong (RHP), Madison Bumgarner (LHP, utility outfielder), Brandon Belt (1B), Marco Sutero (2B), Brandon Crawford (SS), Pablo Sandoval (3B), Ryan Theriot (utility infielder), Manny Burris (utility outfielder), Angel Pagan (CF), Hunter Pence (RF) and Pat Burrell (LF) -- Changes in positions people actually play(ed) on the modern Giants were made because of reasons.


End file.
